


Just Following Orders

by SilverButtons



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Don't worry though, Dubious Consent, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, he really likes it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverButtons/pseuds/SilverButtons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets bored on the ride home, and wants Sebastian to suck him off. What happens when Sebastian stops doing it because he was ordered to, and starts doing it because he likes it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Following Orders

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I usually ship Johnlock, but I got this idea for a backseat scene and couldn't make it fit with my boys. I asked for some Mormor headcancons on Tumblr so I could make sure to write the pairing well, but I mostly got crickets. So, if you feel they're horribly OOC, I'm sorry. I did my best. 
> 
> You may have to wait a bit for chapter two, but I promise it's coming. I meant for it to be a one-shot, but this half has been sitting for a while, so I decided just to post it as-is. No beta.

“Suck my cock, Sebastian.”

Moran pretended not to hear. It was not a strategy that worked, but the other option was trying to say no, and he wasn’t in the mood for the inevitable struggle that would follow, especially since the result would be the same no matter what. He kept looking out of the car window, watching everything and nothing as they drove by, stoic face blank as ever.

Jim slid over in the back seat until their bodies touched from the shoulders down. Moran could feel Jim’s ridiculously expensive suit jacket rub against his bare arm. He repressed the urge to flinch at the contact. Nuzzling into his neck, Jim repeated, “I want you. To suck. My cock.”

Moran sighed, and pulled back enough to look down at Jim’s innocently smiling face.

“You know I don’t like that, boss.”

Once Jim decided he wanted something, there was no getting out of it. There was no changing his mind. Actually, the man changed his mind with somewhat alarming frequency, but not when it came to his dick. Moran’s relative heterosexuality felt compelled to put up a cursory protest, but that’s all it was.

Jim laughed, affectionate glee sparkling in his eyes, and he wrapped his arms around Moran’s shoulders to give him a great squeezing hug.

“Oh, Sebastian,” he taunted, whispering sweetly into his ear. “I don’t give a fuck what you like.” The matter was settled. Moving back over to his side of the car, Jim took off his jacket and started undoing the fly on his trousers.

This didn’t happen often. The first time, both men had been drunk and Sebastian gave in with only a little coercion, believing it to be a singular occasion. The time after that he tried to refuse, but his job was worth too much to fight back when the boss took a whip to him. He took the punishment, and learned better than to outright decline in the future.  

When the boss was in a good mood like he was now, there was less of a chance of it degrading into getting tied up and beaten, which happened at times even when he didn’t try to reject Jim’s advances. Not that he truly minded the occasional beating. He wasn’t a masochist, but he could certainly take anything the boss dished out, and sometimes it distracted Jim enough to keep his dick out of Moran’s mouth. It had the added benefit of reminding him where his place was. Deviation from orders required punishment.  

As Jim was getting undressed, Moran pushed the button to lower the partition between them and the driver. This might take a while, and Jim getting interrupted by trivialities like arriving back home would not end well for anyone involved.

“Hey,” he said, getting the driver’s attention, “keep going.”

“Where to?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. I don’t fucking care where you go. You’re the driver. Do your god damned job, and just drive,” he commanded. Then he sat back and put the inner window up again.

Jim had his jacket off and his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his slim but well-muscled torso. Moran trained his eyes on Jim’s face. It was just skin, after all. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. No reason to let his gaze linger.  

Jim tutted. “You were so mean to him, Sebastian. You could have at least asked if he wanted to watch.”

Moran was resigned to get this over with as fast as he could, and without the boss getting angry.

“Sorry, boss. You want I should ask him now?” he asked, reaching for the partition button again.

“No, no.” Jim waved him off with a scowl. “Next time.”

Next time. Of course there would be a next time.

Jim must have noticed something on Moran’s face then. A flash of disgust, maybe. Or annoyance. Something that indicated that Moran was less than thrilled with the continued prospect of being used as Jim’s whore, because Jim was suddenly angry. In the lightning quick way that only he could change his mood, he grabbed a fist full of Moran’s t-shirt and pulled him in close.

“Now you listen here, _Tiger_ ,” he said, spitting the ridiculous pet name that Moran had somehow been saddled with, “You do what I say. If I tell you to shoot someone in the head, you ask how much blood I want on the wall. And if I tell you to suck my cock, that is exactly what you’ll do, even if I want it broadcast on BBC One. I’m getting tired of your attitude. Now get to work.” He let of his hold on Moran’s shirt, and gently smoothed it out, his demeanor slipping back to the relatively playful Jim of thirty seconds earlier. As Moran leaned forward and pulled Jim’s cock out of his opened trousers, Jim grumbled, “My last sniper wasn’t nearly as whiny.”

Moran paused for a moment and looked up, raising his eyebrows with a smirk “Didn’t stop you from having me take him out.”

Before Jim could answer, Moran grabbed the base of the rapidly plumping cock in front of him to keep it steady, closed his eyes, and sucked it up into his mouth. He used his lips to pull and stretch Jim’s growing member to its full size.

Moran wouldn’t say that he liked doing this. Of course not. It was just another part of the job, for which he was paid exceptionally well. But if he was going to have a cock in his mouth, he may as well put some effort into it. There was at least the satisfaction of a job well-done. He increased the suction and bobbed his head faster.

Above him, Jim was leaning back on the headrest. His eyes were closed too, and the corners of his mouth were curling up in a smile as he let out a relaxed groan. He threw an arm over Moran’s shoulders and softly petted his head.

“Such a good boy, Seb,” Jim murmured. “Your mouth was made for my cock.”

Moran grunted. It was the most prudent action. He acknowledged the boss’s compliment without either agreeing (which might make Jim inclined to demand this more often) or disagreeing (which would make Jim angry… and then possibly inclined to demand this more often).

He continued sucking hard and fast, with little precision, trying to finish the job in the most expedient way possible, but Jim would not be rushed. He dug his fingers into Moran’s scalp and grabbed a handful of his slicked-back, overgrown crew cut. Pulling back hard, Moran’s mouth popped off Jim’s dick and hovered a centimeter above it, connected with a string of drool.

“Easy, now,” Jim crooned. “You’re so eager. Go on… Tease me a little.” He relaxed the grip on Moran’s hair enough for him to use his tongue to lick around the corona of Jim’s cock. “Oh, yeah, show me how much you love it,” he moaned

Moran ignored the remarks. If Jim liked to pretend that he was a willing participant in this, it was all the same to him. His job was to follow orders. He started sucking again, but slower. He took Jim so far deep into his mouth that he almost choked, but he pulled back before Jim could get any ideas. He licked up the sides, and around the sensitive tip, and used his hand to work the foreskin. It had been too long since Moran had been on the receiving end of a blowjob, but that didn’t mean he had forgotten what he liked. It made it easier, somehow, doing the things that he enjoyed having done to him, and if Jim’s heavy breathing was any indication, he certainly didn’t seem to have any complaints about the technique.   

It wasn’t unpleasant. Jim kept himself clean and well groomed. There wasn’t much smell or taste really, just clean skin and soap. Moran had been in the army. He knew plenty of guys who didn’t take as good care of themselves. As long as he kept his eyes closed and did as he was told, it was no big deal. He wasn’t queer. He was just keeping the boss happy. And if he was starting to feel a corresponding tingle in his own groin, well that was just biology. It didn’t mean anything.

Jim grabbed at the neck of Moran’s t-shirt. “Take this off,” he commanded, his voice low and urgent. Moran sat back and tugged the shirt over his head, leaving his previously hidden dog tags to dangle freely as he bent back down to take Jim’s cock in his mouth again. The tags bounced in Jim’s lap distractingly as Moran moved his head.  Aggravated, he snatched the chain and threw it over his shoulder.

Moran took a moment to enjoy the feel of Jim’s hand running over the bare skin of his back. Jim had complimented him on his muscle tone before. Well, he had complimented how well they looked streaked in welts, how attractive the color contrast was. Moran tried to feel disgust and failed as the prideful feeling of pleasing Jim came creeping back. He let out a moan as Jim raked his fingernails down his spine, bringing to mind once again the feeling of Jim’s whip biting into his skin.

Jim palmed the tags and wrapped his hand in the chain, jerking it tight enough for the round beads to dig into the skin on Moran’s neck and cut off some of his air flow. Jim put his free hand on the top of Moran’s head and held it head down as he tried to struggle against the pressure on his windpipe. He was in no danger of passing out, but the decreased oxygen left his brain foggy as his muscles first tensed, then relaxed. It was a floaty feeling. Detached, almost.

“Stay right fucking there,” Jim warned. He held Moran’s head in place, and pushed his hips up, slowly, fucking into his mouth. He repeated the motion again and again, not hard, but deep, taking his time with every thrust into Moran’s mouth. “Oh, fucking hell, Sebastian. Your throat’s tighter than a virgin’s cunt.” That was Jim, eloquent as ever.

Saliva mixed with Jim’s pre-come dribbled out of Moran’s mouth as Jim pumped his hips, rolling them up and triggering Moran’s gag reflex just enough to prevent him from swallowing with his necklace constricting his throat. The sloppiness made him feel debauched and dirty, and his face would have flushed with shame if it wasn’t already reddened by his struggle for breath and unacknowledged desire.

Jim’s head fell back with a groan and he dropped his hands away, letting Moran take over movement again. The fresh rush of blood and air left him light headed, but he knew how the boss wanted it now, and heard Jim hum in pleasure as he continued the leisurely pace he had set up, pausing every few thrusts to suckle at the head and use his tongue to massage at his frenulum. Jim’s moans went straight to Moran’s cock. He ignored the strain that he was beginning to feel against his jeans and concentrated instead on the boss’s gasping, whimpering breaths.  

Pulling roughly on Moran’s chain again to get his attention, Jim said “Move. I want to watch you.” He shoved Moran down onto the floor of the car and lay back, spreading himself across the seat, kicking his trousers all the way off in the process. Jim opened his legs and propped a bare foot against the window, making room for Moran to get between them.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he snapped, as Moran resumed his position and closed his eyes again. “I want you to watch too.”

That sent another shiver through Moran’s belly, this time harder to ignore as he was forced to see what he was doing. The cock in front of him was long, but not overly thick. It had well defined veins that glistened with his saliva, and it was a uniform dusky rose color. The foreskin was pulled back now, but when Jim was soft it puckered over the tip in an enticing pout. Moran’s mouth twitched at the thought. He had not meant to give Jim such generous appraisal.

Moran began fisting Jim’s cock, pumping slowly, and making the man groan every time he twisted his wrist over the top. His eyes slid over the expanse of Jim's skin, and he could not help but appreciate the slight curve of hips, and the trail of hair leading up his belly. By the time he had absorbed the sight before him, all the way up, past the fluttering pulse visible in Jim's neck to the man's own eyes, he felt caught; drawn into the spider's web in a way that was new, even though he had been in this position before. He was enjoying it, seeing Jim's heaving breath, watching the in all other ways untouchable man lose control beneath him. And Jim knew it. He looked down on Moran with a smirk.

Jim had his head propped up with his hands, elbows wide behind him, and his almost naked body was displayed proudly. He was in sex the way he was in all things, unabashed, and filled with quiet power. Moran wanted to look away but Jim’s penetrating stare went right through him. 

He held the madman’s gaze as he lowered his mouth and licked Jim’s cock from the base, all the way up.

Jim let out a high-pitched crazy giggle. He reached down to pet Moran's head. "Good boy."

Moran grunted again in acknowledgement, this time feeling a warm rush as pleasure and pride filled him. He was too turned on to be ashamed. That would probably come later, but for now he snaked his free hand down to rub the hard ridge of his own desire through his jeans. He moaned at the contact and Jim arched up into his mouth in response to the added vibration.

“Hands off,” Jim growled.

Moran complied, disappointed and embarrassed. It was stupid to think that Jim would allow him to get any real enjoyment out of this. Just do the job. Follow orders.

He continued sucking only to be startled by a sudden shove to his shoulders, pushing him off. Before he could question why, Jim quickly sat up and grabbed Moran’s head in both hands. He was helpless to control the dumbstruck look on his face as Jim pulled him forward to cover his mouth with his own in a searing kiss.

Jim was ruthless as he licked into Moran’s shocked and unresponsive mouth. He bit at his lips until Moran gasped in pain and started kissing back, just as hard. He wasn’t fighting for dominance. He was afraid of losing his tongue if he did something as stupid as that. He was simply trying to keep up.

They gasped into each other’s mouths until Jim used his grasp of Moran’s head to yank him back. Chests heaving and eyes locked, Jim gave a lascivious smile and said, “Oh, kitten. Now the fun can really begin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on my Tumblr if you have suggestions or just want to say hi. 
> 
> http://drugs-in-ur-coffee.tumblr.com/


End file.
